


The Dark and Stormy Nights

by Onmyliteraturebullshitagain



Series: And They Were Neighbors (oh my god they were neighbors) [10]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Bisexual Sokka (Avatar), Bisexual Zuko (Avatar), Boys In Love, Dorks in Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Just the boys being good to each other, M/M, Midwest Bi Disaster Zukka, Panic Attack Recovery, Panic Attacks, Sokka (Avatar) Has ADHD, Zuko Probably as PTSD Honestly, Zuko's Scar (Avatar), care and comfort, taking care of each other, zukka - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:15:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28461513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onmyliteraturebullshitagain/pseuds/Onmyliteraturebullshitagain
Summary: Two instances where Zuko and Sokka take care of each other in difficult situations.Chapters 1 and 2 - Zuko takes care of SokkaChapters 3 and 4 - Sokka takes care of ZukoMidwest Bi Disaster Zukka, but can definitely be read as a stand-alone as long as you know the two are in a relationship and just want to read about some love and care. :)
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Series: And They Were Neighbors (oh my god they were neighbors) [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1968508
Comments: 319
Kudos: 517





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another shout out to mists_of_avalon for reading and suggesting some edits and expansions on the Sokka portions of this story! You're the best!

It was still snowing. How could it possibly  _ still  _ be snowing?

Sokka poked at his laptop, flipping between the two screens: one where he had all the stupid fiddly details the client wanted him to include and the second where the stupid fiddly details were supposed to go. Except each time he switched pages, he forgot what he was doing. He forgot which detail it was, then forgot where it went, and then forgot the detail he needed to retrieve and on and on it went. Why had he thought working would help? He scratched his nails into his hair and thought he heard his phone buzz. He grabbed it, checking. Nothing of course, and he checked again that his volume was up, that everything was on, that there weren't any new texts or missed calls or notifications that had somehow slipped through.

It was fine. He was fine.

He managed to return to the fiddly details for about two minutes before it got too much, his muscles jittery, his brain too fast. He pushed back his chair. He could do something else: dishes maybe, fold laundry, watch tiktok videos, listen to music, walk Boomerang, drive to the store to get snacks--

Except he couldn't do those last two things because of the snow, because he was stuck here, because there was nothing he could do, because his hands were shaking.

He tried to take a breath. That's what Zuko did when he started getting weird or angry, focusing on his breath. Sokka could do that. Breathing was easy.

Why wasn't it easy?

He swore his phone buzzed, and he grabbed it, fumbling to get it open. This could be vital, could be an update, could be something that mattered.

Just a text reminding him he had a prescription to pick up at the pharmacy, which he  _ also _ couldn't do because of the snow and it being 11:14pm, which meant he didn't have meds, didn't have anything, didn't know what to do. He went to the window and stared out at the snow. It kept coming down, heavy and wet against the darkness and pulling down the branches of the trees, piling up in blankets that covered everything, smeared out any details. Closed him in.

Why couldn't he breathe? That wasn't normal. He should be able to breathe. 

He checked his phone again, clicked up the volume to be sure it was as loud as possible, which it already was, because he'd turned it up already. Of course he had. Still, he looked through the old messages anyway, went back to his computer, stood up again a moment later. 

Something was wrong with him. Why did his chest hurt? Why was his brain so loud? Why couldn't he handle this?

He was supposed to be able to handle things. He took care of people, helped them out, supported them and cheered them up and kept them going. He should be able to do the same thing for himself. He could deal with this.

He should be able to deal with it. 

Sokka looked at his hands again, the way they shivered like he was freezing when he wasn't. He shook them out, like that would somehow fix it. He looked around his apartment. Were the walls closer? Why did his skin feel too tight?

He scratched his nails against his arms like that could ground him, like all this was just an itch he could get rid of.

It didn't help. 

He couldn't deal with this. Something was wrong.

Sokka felt bad about doing it, but he found himself heading downstairs before he thought it through and knocking on Zuko's door before he'd processed why. It was late and cold and he was being stupid and Zuko would be sleeping. Sokka was being a bother when he should be fine. But he wasn't and now he was hovered in front of that familiar white door, waiting post-knock and already regretting it. 

At least he hadn't knocked loudly, so he was fully prepared to head back upstairs and leave Zuko alone and deal with whatever this was himself. It'd be fine. It wasn't that bad. He was just being dramatic. But also nothing was helping and he knew he was forgetting things but he didn't know what they were or how to remember. This wasn't how his ADHD was and he knew how to deal with ADHD but this he didn't understand because it was like he wanted to claw his skin off and also squeeze himself into an impossibly tiny ball but he couldn't do either and he didn't know what to do.

He knocked again without thinking about it.

This wasn't normal. This wasn't like him. He shouldn't have gone downstairs. They only knocked like this for fun things, having a good time together. If Zuko got up for this at all, he'd be expecting normal Sokka, not this Sokka. Whoever this was. He shouldn't have come down. He was a grown fucking man. He needed to take care of himself. He was supposed to--

The door cracked open, revealing Zuko's sleep-groggy face.

"Sokka?" he asked, rubbing his eyes. 

"I'm sorry," Sokka blurted immediately and scraped his nails aggressively back and forth against the meat of his thumbs to see if that helped because something was wrong with him, so wrong with him, and he didn't know what was happening or where it had come from or what to do and--

"Hey, hey, it's ok," Zuko said, reaching out for him, and fuck, Sokka hadn't even realized he'd started talking but apparently he'd been saying that garbled idiocy outloud.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly again, but Zuko was just rubbing a hand gently up and down his arm and pulling the door open all the way. 

He motioned Sokka inside, and he followed on stiff legs.

"Come here," Zuko said as soon as they were within, and he pulled Sokka carefully against him.

And Sokka wanted to cling to him, to just sink into him, but he  _ couldn't _ . He couldn't stay still. He couldn't control his breathing. He was fucking everything up. He pulled back from the hug and rocked on his heels and resumed scratching his nails against his hands. Zuko hovered in front of him, a hand raised, and he was all cozy and tousled and here was Sokka--

"--just bursting in and waking you up and being a wreck. You shouldn't have even answered the door because this is weird and wrong and I don't know  _ why _ ! I don't know what this is! I know my brain is weird but this is new and it's too much and I can't stop it and--" he said, in a frantic sort of burst again. 

He was getting lightheaded. That was probably bad.

Zuko approached again and reached out to hold his shoulders, hands exquisitely gentle on the clenched muscles there.

"It's gonna be ok," he said, and Sokka was pretty sure he was being EMT voiced, but he didn't care. 

Maybe it was good actually. EMT Zuko would know what to do, how to fix it. He dealt with people with broken bones sticking out of their arms or, like, bullet holes in them; he could probably handle Sokka's skin being too tight and his brain going too fast. Sokka reached up and grabbed hard to one of Zuko's forearms, clinging like he was drowning.

"I want you to take one deep breath for me, ok?" EMT Zuko said slowly, and then demonstrated himself, a slow breath in through his nose, held for a moment, and then out through his mouth.

And Sokka tried, tried to make his lungs work. But he couldn't. He couldn't get enough air and he couldn't hold on to it and his chest was too squeezed to fit anything else and he couldn't do it and he was a  _ failure. _

"I can't," he said, and his eyes were stinging. "I'm  _ sorry _ . I should be able to do this--I'm sorry!"

Zuko just shook his head and gave a gentle smile.

"You're not doing anything wrong, sweetheart," he said. "You don't have to apologize."

"But I'm--I'm not supposed to be like this!" Sokka said, choking a little. "I can't--I don't--"

His brain was too fast, full of too many things, like he'd thrown all his thoughts and worries in a blender and turned it on high and now he couldn't shut it off. Why couldn't he breathe? Why couldn't he do this?

He turned desperate eyes on Zuko, who'd know what to do. He had to know what to do.

"It's gonna be ok," Zuko said again, reaching one hand up now to hold his face and still looking so patient and calm and undeservingly nice. "Try another breath for me, ok? It doesn't have to be perfect, but you need air." He rubbed his thumb along Sokka's cheekbone and smiled. "That big ol’ brain of yours needs air, ok?"

"It's  _ broken _ ," Sokka said, guttural and raw. "My brain is broken."

"Then you're in good company, huh? Just a pair of broken brains here," Zuko said, still completely unruffled, amazing unruffled. He wasn't being grumpy or weird or snippy at all, and Sokka didn't deserve it. 

"I… I don't… why am I..." he began, unsure even what he was trying to say, but Zuko just nodded like he'd said something normal. 

"Breathe with me as much as you can," he said.

He demonstrated again, and Sokka tried, but he couldn't do it again and his eyes were prickling and wet and he should be able to do this and he  _ couldn't _ and--

"Here," Zuko said, adjusting to grab Sokka's hands. "I wouldn't do this for a normal patient but you're special." He smiled a little and then held Sokka's hands to either side of his ribs and inhaled slowly, letting Sokka feel the way his chest moved as he breathed. 

"You don't even have to breathe along yet," Zuko said, that same steady, clear voice. "Just feel the rhythm and stay here, ok? That's all you gotta do."

So Sokka tried, because he did like feeling Zuko's chest, the shirt thin and soft and his body warm from being in bed, the steady way his rib cage expanded and contracted under his hands.

"Tell me about Boomerang," Zuko said, nonsensically, and Sokka looked back up at his face from where he'd been watching their piled hands and Zuko's chest.

"Boomerang?" Sokka echoed, confused, but Zuko just nodded.

"Where'd you get him again?" Zuko asked, still doing that slow breathing and that soothing EMT voice.

"Um, from… from…" Sokka tried to pick through the swirl in his brain and under his skin, "Heartland Animal Shelter."

"That's right," Zuko replied, nodding, "and what made you pick him out of all the animals there?"

Sokka's eyebrows furrowed, and he could feel his chest squeezing again.

"I've told you this story," he managed, and Zuko just nodded.

"Pretend I forgot," he said, rubbing his fingers over the back of Sokka's hands, still held against his ribs. "Tell me about it again. What did you like about him?"

"Um…" Sokka swallowed, trying to keep back the spiral of panic, that desire to scratch at his skin, and just feel Zuko's ribs, his presence, his breathing, his voice. "I, um, knew I wanted a dog. An adult dog. Not a puppy."

"Makes sense," Zuko said, nodding and kind and not acting like Sokka was being an idiot child, which he was, and it was  _ horrible _ . "What else?"

"Um--he--uh," Sokka began, "he was a good size."

"He is a nice sized dog."

"And he already had some training."

"Definitely helpful." Zuko rubbed his hands again. "What else?"

"I… I knew I wanted a smart dog," Sokka managed, "trainable. That I could run around with. Stuff like that."

Zuko nodded. "Yeah, he's good for that, huh?" 

His eyes in the dark of the apartment were gentle and attentive, his hands warm and his space calm and quiet, and Sokka was--Sokka couldn't…

He swallowed again. "You think I'm stupid."

Zuko's forehead furrowed. "No I don't."

"You  _ have _ to," Sokka said brokenly. "It's the middle of the night and I'm freaking out and holding your ribs and we're talking about my dog."

"None of that's stupid," Zuko insisted, reaching up to stroke a thumb across his jaw. "None of it, ok?"

Sokka finally gave a short nod.

"Breathe with me again. You can do it," Zuko said, covering his hands once more.

And Sokka managed, with all the focus he could possibly wrangle, something closer to a normal breath.

Zuko smiled. "There you go. You've got it. Good job."

"God, it's like you're talking to a baby," Sokka muttered.

"I actually don't talk much to babies," Zuko replied. "It always ends up being a pretty boring and one sided conversation."

Sokka met his eyes again. "Was that a joke?"

"An attempt at one," Zuko said, shaking his head. "I'm trying, but remember,  _ you're _ the funny one. I'm the hot one."

"Oh you are now?" Sokka said, smiling a little, and that felt almost better, although it was still like something was crushing his chest while something else was trying to crawl out through his skin. 

"Well, you could be the hot one," Zuko offered, "but then what's left for me? The smart one? The jock? The nerd?"

"Are you just naming high school stereotypes right now?"

"I might be," Zuko admitted. "Sorry. I'm really tired." At Sokka's face he immediately added, "But I'm also fine and you don't have to worry about me right now. I'm ok."

"I should leave."

"No, you shouldn't."

"I'm bugging you!"

"You're really not."

Sokka stared at him, looking for some crack, some sign, some indication that he was lying, that he wished Sokka was gone. But Zuko was still just… Zuko. His Zuko. A little scruffy, a shadow of stubble on his face and his clothes wrinkly and soft, and he’d typically be more crabby and sarcastic than this. But it was still Zuko. Safe. Understanding. Familiar. Here. 

He looked back at their hands around Zuko's chest.

"What's wrong with me?" Sokka asked, trying for another breath.

Zuko wet his lips. "I think you're having a panic attack," he said gently, and Sokka's eyes snapped to his again.

"What? How? I don't--where does that come from? What's wrong with me?"

"Nothing's wrong with you," Zuko replied calmly. "ADHD and anxiety do tend to overlap sometimes, but anyone can panic. Do you  _ know _ the amount of panic attacks I've had in my life?"

"Really?"

Zuko nodded. "Why do you think I know how to do this?"

"Because you're a doctor?"

"Still not a doctor," Zuko said, smiling crookedly, "and yeah, I guess that's part of it too. Training and personal experience."

"That's why you're not freaked out?" Sokka asked quietly.

"It'd take  _ a lot  _ to freak me out at this point," Zuko replied evenly. "You could show up here bleeding from the head and I'd be  _ concerned _ for sure, but not freaked out. So this? A little panic?" He waved a hand before laying it over Sokka's again. "Not a big deal."

Sokka nodded, weirdly reassured by that. Stuff seemed to be slowing down inside him finally, at least a little more, and he felt tired and shaky all at once.

“Here,” Zuko said, raising one hand toward Sokka’s face, “I’m gonna try something else too, if you don’t mind?” 

Sokka nodded, and Zuko reached out and carefully pinched his ear between two fingers, rubbing circles gently into the skin and cartilage, and Sokka was surprised to feel an instant lurch of calm hit him.

“My uncle’s more the Traditional Chinese Medicine type--obviously, since I went all Western medicine myself,” Zuko explained, still rubbing those soothing circles around Sokka's ear, “but there’s definitely something to the flow of qi in the body and reflexology points.”

It was actually really weirdly calming, and Sokka felt his eyes shut finally, pulled air in through his nose.

“I thought reflexology was feet and stuff,” he muttered as Zuko continued to massage along his ear.

“That too,” Zuko replied in that same calming voice, “but there are points all over the ears, and that’s easier to get to. Like…” he moved his fingers to rub just under the top curve of Sokka’s ear, “I wanna say that’s a point for anxiety or stress? It might be for stomach issues, though, so don’t quiz me later.”

Sokka managed a chuckle and did feel something relaxing down through his neck as he opened his eyes again.

“It… feels really nice either way,” he said, managing another slower breath.

“Score one for acupressure,” Zuko replied, smiling a little, and Sokka took another slower breath, focus pulled between his own hand still on Zuko’s ribs and the fingers massaging his ear. Somehow, the combination was cutting through all the crap still swirling in his brain. Not entirely--he could hear it all churning around there--but it had become more like white noise rather than something overwhelming. His skin was also feeling less tight, less like he needed to scratch it all off, his chest more able to actually take in and let out air like it was supposed to.

They stood that way in the living room for who knew how long, just breathing in the dark, quiet apartment, until Sokka felt he could finally look at Zuko fully again. 

"Thank you," he whispered.

"Not a problem," Zuko replied, dropping his hand back onto Sokka’s shoulder. "You wanna come lay down for a bit? You can stay here tonight if you want, but don't feel like you have to if you're ok now and wanna be in your own house.”

"Can I… I’d rather stay here with you," Sokka said, voice a bit small. "If you don’t mind.”

He felt like a little kid who'd had a nightmare, disoriented and clingy and seeking comfort, which just ramped up his pathetic feelings again.

But Zuko didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he jerked his head toward his bedroom and said, "Come cuddle," like he knew what Sokka needed, like this wasn't a big deal that Sokka felt fragile and weak and stupid. Zuko just offered comfort regardless as soon as they were in his room, pulling back the blankets and pulling Sokka into his chest to cradle him there. He still felt too tucked into himself, his body wanting to ball up and hide.

“Are you like this with all your patients?” Sokka asked quietly, for something else to think about, and Zuko chuckled.

“You’re  _ definitely  _ the only patient I’ve done this with,” he said.

“No, but the… being so calm and relaxed and...” He shook his head.

“Well, that is sort of my job,” Zuko offered, “but the touching? The reflexology? Doing stuff while I’m not technically on the clock? Yeah, that’s just for you, sweetheart.”

Sokka took another breath, feeling strangely guilty. He wasn’t meant to be like this, be cuddled and cared for, making Zuko  _ work  _ in the middle of the night.

"Why… why are you so nice to me?" Sokka muttered, barely audible, his eyes squeezed tight.

Zuko snorted. "Because I love you, dumbass."

Like it was easy. Like it was that simple. 

"Yeah but this is awkward and annoying and--" Sokka began.

"Because. I. Love. You," Zuko said, accenting each word with a tap to Sokka's shoulder, which made him smile just a little bit. 

It was still new, those words, that depth of feeling. It felt good, warm and weird and  _ good _ , being loved.

"Do you remember everything you've done for me?" Zuko continued. "Do you, by chance, remember cuddling me for  _ hours _ while I talked about my family? I owe you all the panic attack recovery I can offer."

"Still…"

"Still nothing," Zuko replied shortly, leaving no room for discussion, and Sokka finally snuck an arm out and around Zuko's chest to hold the back of his neck.

“Thank you,” he muttered, and Zuko just ran a hand over his back, all cozy and warm and here. 

Still here. Somehow.

The room was quiet and safe, all the bad things left up in Sokka’s apartment, walls away from where they could get to him again. Still, Sokka felt it all prickling there, just waiting, threatening to return.

"Can you explain panic attacks to me? How they actually… work?" Sokka asked softly, because things were safer when he could define them, when he could quantify them.

“Sure,” Zuko replied, “but I’m not a psychologist or anything, so be sure to speak to a professional about--”

“Pretty sure you can drop the EMT thing now that I’m in bed with you,” Sokka said with a small smile, and he could feel Zuko smile too.

“Ok that’s fair,” he replied, and settled them in closer together.

Then he talked quietly through the fight-or-flight response as a survival instinct in the body, about the amygdala and brain chemicals and adrenaline, about how brains and bodies process stress. His voice was low and calm and raspy and oddly soothing, and Sokka felt the remaining fear and pain slowly work itself out as Zuko talked.

"So usually," Zuko concluded, "a panic attack with no association to a disorder comes from external sources." He ran a hand down Sokka's back. "So is everything ok? You… need to talk about anything?"

Sokka sighed and burrowed his face closer into Zuko's chest and pulled the blanket up higher. Then he could finally grab hold of one of the tangled threads in his head, pull on it, and start talking. He explained all the projects he had for work right now, the upcoming deadlines, and how isolated and trapped he felt because of the heavy snow outside and the inability to do things or go anywhere, how small and lonely the apartment was feeling.

"And…" he finished softly, "my Gran Gran's sick."

"Oh Sokka, I'm sorry," Zuko said immediately, stroking his back again. 

"She's in the hospital and she's getting treated and I don’t think it’s that bad and that she's getting better, but both Katara and my dad keep updating me, sometimes with the same information, sometimes contradicting information, so every time my phone buzzes, I assume something horrible's happening and--" he added sharply, "and I'm not  _ there _ for her, or for them. I can't help or do  _ anything _ , and I can't even  _ get  _ there because of the damn weather! So all I can do is  _ sit here _ and try to keep my projects straight and go fucking stir crazy and wait for more news and not help  _ anyone _ ."

He let out a long sigh and pulled the blanket up even higher so that only his eyes were above it.

Zuko let out a breath too.

"Well fuck," he said. "Yeah that'd do it."

Sokka gave a grunt of agreement. 

"Thank you for letting me bother you," he muttered. 

Zuko gave his head a quick flick with his forefinger, and Sokka yelped.

“What the hell was that for?” he asked. 

"You don't  _ bother  _ me,” Zuko said and then added with a cock of his head, "ok, well, sometimes you bother me, but only about stupid stuff. Important stuff--your family, your job, your life, that never  _ bothers  _ me, goober."

"Did you just call me  _ goober _ ?" Sokka replied, and Zuko chuckled a little. 

"Yeah, you must be rubbing off on me with the terrible nicknames," Zuko replied, "but hey, tomorrow, if you want, we can call the hospital to try to get information more directly. I know the right stuff to say, and we'll figure it out."

Sokka nodded into his chest. "Thank you." 

"And then, because you didn't say this but I  _ know you _ ," Zuko said with another poke at Sokka's head and no acknowledgement of his gratitude, "we're gonna go get groceries that includes actual food so you're not just binge eating garbage."

"But I  _ like _ garbage," Sokka muttered.

"I know you do, you ridiculous trash panda," Zuko grunted, "but you need vegetables. Fruit. Nutrition. I'll start grinding up flintstones vitamins and hiding them in your food if I have to."

"Gonna wrap them in cheese like I do to make Boomerang take his heartworm pills?" Sokka asked.

"If that's what it'll take," Zuko replied, completely unconcerned, and he kissed Sokka's forehead. "But I'm… here, ok? I'm here for you. We're gonna figure this out."

Sokka tucked his face into Zuko's chest.

“I'm supposed to be able to take care of myself,” Sokka muttered quietly, “not be taken care of.”

“I know,” Zuko replied, “because you’re stubborn and noble and all that other stupid shit.”

“Gee thanks.”

“I’m just saying,” Zuko pressed on, running a hand over his back, “I wasn't lying before when I said I'd be here, that I'd do whatever I could for you. We’re a team now, ok? We take care of  _ each other _ .”

“A team, huh?” Sokka replied with a slim smile. “Romantic.”

Zuko snorted. “You know what I mean. It’s not one-sided. We’re not doing that whole--whatever you'd call it--heteronormative gender roles bullshit.”

Sokka grunted a kind of laugh. “Yeah, yeah, ok," he murmured. "I think I get it.”

“Good,” Zuko replied, “so if you need help or need to talk or whatever, I’m here. I know I'm sort of an asshole to most people, but I show up for  _ you _ ." He pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "I'll always show up for you."

"'Cause you love me?" Sokka muttered, smiling to himself.

"Yes, Sokka," Zuko replied with a sigh as he pulled him into a tighter hug, "because I love you."

And finally, Sokka could find it in himself to relax completely, to snuggle his face into Zuko's chest and know that, if he felt responsible for other people, he had someone else who felt responsible for him too. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, if you haven't tried massaging or having someone massage your ears for anxiety/stress reduction, definitely give it a shot.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading, kudos-ing, commenting, and being willing to engage with me about my writing. You all are the best :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More post-panic recovery and more of Sokka's anxieties being relieved.

The next morning, Sokka woke up groggy and with a bit of a cramp in his neck and feeling oddly stiff and dehydrated. But he was also in Zuko's bed, with its heavy blanket and pillows that smelled like him, a whole cocoon actually that smelled like being wrapped up in Zuko. God, Sokka loved that smell, masculine and husky and clean at once, sometimes just touched with cologne, but mostly he loved it just because it was familiar and comforting and made him think of cuddling on the couch and hugs goodbye and loving someone. He let his eyes stay shut a while longer, just feeling warm and curled up toe to chin in blanket, finally able to breathe like normal. It was a great thing to go full chrysalis into, quite honestly, and the room was quiet and still not fully lit even as he did open his eyes for real. Everything felt far away.

Including Zuko, who was gone, which Sokka didn't like. He sat up immediately, some lingering part of him from last night sure he'd scared him away, freaked him out, asked for too much. And all those stressors and fears, they were all just a floor above, waiting for him, just barely out of reach but lurking. 

Oh god, it was coming back. He squeezed his hands into fists.

The bedroom door opened slowly, scratched inward by a paw, and then suddenly there was a cat hopping up on the bed by Sokka and giving a long, dramatic stretch. He wasn't sure which cat this was (the cat didn't have a collar on right now, so who knew?), but he reached out to pet him anyway. Dragon/Lucky butted into his hand and stepped closer, starting to purr, which vibrated into Sokka's hand. Sokka stroked him more, careful and trying not to scare him away too. 

"Hey kitty-kitty," he muttered, scratching behind Dragon/Lucky's ears. "Who's a good boy? Or wait, is that just something you say to dogs?"

The cat gave no answer and climbed into Sokka's lap to smear his face against the man's chest. It was a little weird, being rubbed all over by a cat, but it was nice too in a way. Distracting if nothing else, and Dragon/Lucky was heavy and soft to the touch and arched up his back end when Sokka stroked down his spine. Sokka thought about Zuko from last night and took a deep breath the way Zuko did when things were bad: in through the nose, out through the mouth. It helped a little, and he tried to keep doing it, keep breathing, keep petting the cat.

The bedroom door creaked open further, and Sokka looked up again to see Zuko coming in. 

"Hey, you're up," he said, face lifting into a small smile until he seemed to notice the cat. "Oh shit, did Lucky wake you up? He's such a little bastard sometimes--"

"This is  _ Lucky _ ?" Sokka asked, petting the cat again. "But he's being so nice right now."

Zuko chuckled, shut the door behind him, and came to sit on the bed beside Sokka.

"Yeah, he's got his moods and definitely still prefers hiding and swiping at feet, but for some reason, he's like a drug-sniffing dog for emotional distress and gets ultra sweet and lovey when he detects it."

Sokka looked down at the cat. "So your cat is basically pitying me right now," he said and shot Lucky a glare. "This has all been  _ pity affection _ , hasn't it? I feel betrayed."

"Nah," Zuko replied, petting the cat too. "I like to think he had a rough life so when other people are struggling, he tries to help."

"That's very optimistic for you," Sokka noted, and Zuko shrugged, smiling gently.

"Sorry I wasn't here when you got up," he said, "and also sorry for breaking into your apartment, but the door's locked now."

"Wait… what?"

Zuko held up Sokka's keys. "I got Boomerang out and fed him, and I grabbed your phone and laptop in case you were worried about work, and then I locked your door. It was open from last night, but it all seems fine inside." He set the keys on the bedside table and rotated back to facing him. "Sorry it took me a bit. I meant to get back before you woke up so you didn't get anxious I'd left you or something."

Sokka stared at him, genuinely dumbfounded.

"You…" he said slowly, "you just, did all that. Just... because."

Zuko reached over and swept some hair behind his ear. 

"Same reason as last night, sweetheart," he said. "Because I love you. Because you deserve to be taken care of. And also," he let out a quick sigh, "because I get what that sort of anxiety and panic feels like and it fucking sucks."

Sokka couldn't resist scooting closer, trusting that Zuko meant it, that he was back and wouldn't be annoyed with him. He squished himself up against his chest, tucking himself in to do so, and he managed to do it while keeping Lucky in his lap. Once they were all settled again, the cat began kneading pleasantly away at his leg. 

"So…" Sokka ventured, "when did you… deal with this?"

Zuko wrapped an arm around his shoulders and sighed.

"Mostly around when my dad was getting tried in court, especially if I had to testify," he said softly. "Because it was… horrible, and it was like I'd been running for hours and couldn't catch my breath, or like in a video game when the boss music starts playing but you can’t see it yet. That kind of weird, frantic fear that something bad is coming.” He shook his head. “But… I always got through it. The panic always eventually went away." He rubbed a hand over Sokka's arm. "But even after that, sometimes it just… happened. Happens. Sometimes things are just a lot and my body can't deal with it right." He shrugged a little. "Just like you last night."

Sokka looked down at his lap and his hands and the damn trauma-sniffing cat, still making biscuits and purring loudly. 

"I still feel like shit," Sokka confessed. "Just, straight shit."

Zuko bent and kissed his cheek. "That's fair, but think about it. Your body is half-convinced it ran a marathon last night--your muscles and your heart and lungs and all that. And they gotta recover." He leaned into Sokka's side. "And so do you."

Sokka nodded, still watching and petting the cat, tired and weird and drained. But Zuko was here and, just like last night, he'd know what to do. He wouldn't give up on him. He'd take care of him. 

After food and water and some yoga Zuko made him do and a little more rubbing of his ears (which still really did work to make him feel more relaxed), they finally sat side by side on the floor and leaned back against the couch. Zuko had persuaded him to wear his stupid looking but, yes, most-comfortable-hoodie-of-all-time EMT pun sweatshirt, and that helped the lingering anxiety still in Sokka’s chest too. He rubbed his hands against the inside of the front pocket as Zuko called the hospital Gran Gran was at. Sokka tried to keep breathing, not spiral, while Zuko talked to people, oscillated between a lot of versions of his voice--professional Zuko, knowledgeable Zuko, authoritative Zuko--until they got connected to Gran Gran's doctor. Sokka sat with his heart in his throat and his hand death-gripping Zuko's while the other man nodded and asked questions and furrowed his brow. 

Lucky, still apparently sensing distress, butted his head against Sokka's knee as he was forced to wait. Sokka used his non death-gripping hand to rub the cat's neck.

After a few more minutes, Zuko tipped the phone away from his ear.

"She's being treated for bacterial pneumonia," Zuko said, back in his professional voice, and Sokka nodded quickly, "and was hospitalized for some complication, but she's on antibiotics and no longer on oxygen." He turned the phone again and said a quick, "Yes, thank you," to whoever was on the line, and then added to Sokka, "There was some concern about her heart, but it sounds like they're not worried about that anymore, so that's good." He put up a finger and listened again before addressing Sokka. "They think she should be able to go home tomorrow as long as she keeps responding well to medication and getting enough rest and fluids. Oh--" he listened again and smiled, "also, she's getting on now if you wanna talk to her."

Sokka's eyes widened, but he immediately took the phone and brought it to his ear.

"Hello?" said a slightly wheezing but still familiar voice, and Sokka almost choked on his relief.

"Hey Gran Gran!" he said, maybe a little too loudly, shoving the phone even closer to his face. "It's Sokka! I'm so glad to hear your voice!"

"Well hello there, dear!" Gran Gran replied over the phone, and he could hear her smile. "How are you?"

"I'm great, Gran Gran, but how are  _ you _ ?" Sokka said quickly. "I heard you were sick and in the hospital, but it’s so good to talk to you. Are you feeling any better? Are they taking good care of you? Do I need to sic Zuko on any of your doctors?"

Zuko snorted beside him, but Sokka just smiled into the phone at Gran Gran's low laugh. He always felt a little better if he could make her laugh.

"Oh is that how you got through to my doctor?" she replied. "I should have known. He's such a clever boy."

"Yeah, he is, Gran," Sokka replied, shooting Zuko a smile. "But really, how are you feeling?"

And finally Sokka could hear directly from her how she was and what had happened and how she was being treated, rather than trying to decipher through other people. He could hear her voice and listen to her tease him and wave off her illness just like the hearty badass she was, and god, it was good to know for sure. She had good doctors. She was on medication. Katara and Dad were seeing her frequently. She was comfortable and making friends with the nurses and advising them about the right time of year to buy in-season vegetables and the good crafting supplies. Sokka smiled and let his muscles relax just a little more at talking to her. She’d basically raised him--he had to know she was ok, needed her to be ok. But she was, or she would be. 

They talked a little longer before she told him the doctor was saying she had to get going, and Sokka shifted the position of the phone against his ear.

"Ok, well take care Gran Gran," Sokka said. "I love you and you get better, ok?"

"Of course, dear! You know me," Gran Gran replied, and he could picture her face through the phone, dismissive and strong. "Now you give that boy of yours a hug for me and tell him I'll be sending you both a care package soon!"

Sokka rolled his eyes. Of course she would. 

"Will do," Sokka said. "Get well, and we'll talk more soon, I promise."

Gran Gran said goodbye and Sokka passed the phone back to Zuko, who thanked whoever it was on the other end and then hung up. Sokka rubbed his hands over his face, heart thudding and the lingerings of that anxiety still kicking around inside him. But it was getting better. It was going away.

"Sokka?" Zuko asked. "You ok?"

Sokka looked over at him again, the slight worry in his expression, and then threw himself bodily at him with arms wide. Zuko toppled backwards with an 'oof!' and Sokka on top of him, the cat scared away in the tussle. Even laughing, Sokka clung to him and squeezed.

"That's from Gran Gran," Sokka said, grinning down at him, and then he gave him a deep kiss, hands on both sides of his face, before drawing back again and smiling at his slightly stunned expression "And that's from me."

Zuko chuckled and looked up at him.

"Gran Gran's got some power in her tackle," he said, and Sokka laughed and kissed him again. "But I definitely prefer the Sokka kisses."

Sokka knocked their foreheads together. "I love you so much," he said. "I fucking  _ love _ you, you amazing, gorgeous, brilliant man."

Zuko blushed a little bit and scuffed a hand through Sokka's hair. "I didn't--it wasn't that much," he said, "but I love you too."

Sokka bent and kissed him again, and Zuko held his face close. 

"Thank you," Sokka murmured. "For everything. I'm… really glad you're the one on my team."

Zuko grinned and looked a little more pink. "Yeah, well…"

Sokka nuzzled his nose, enjoying Zuko being a bit flustered now after being so sure and confident on the phone. He pressed a kiss to each of his cheeks then, the scarred and unscarred, their bodies still tangled together on the floor. His chest was very full in a way he still wasn't used to, looking down at this person below him who listened and stayed around and  _ loved him  _ for some insane reason. 

"Thank you for being there for me," Sokka whispered. "I still kinda can't believe someone actually cares about my weird, dumb shit."

Zuko freed a hand just to flick him in the forehead again. 

"Hey!" Sokka protested, drawing back. "What the hell?"

"Operant Conditioning," Zuko said, like that explained anything. "Now say something not self-deprecating."

Sokka narrowed his eyes at him. "Um… what?"

"We're retraining that Sokka brain," Zuko said with a grin and poked him in the forehead.

"Is this an EMT thing or a ninja thing?" Sokka asked, laughing.

"Therapy thing," Zuko supplied. "Self talk and all that, and even if I personally suck at it, I get the theory. So come on. Say something good about yourself."

"This is weird."

Zuko poked him in the forehead again, expression all that surly persistence.

"Fine," Sokka sighed. "Um, I'm nice?"

"That's pretty good," Zuko said and caught and kissed his palm. "Go again."

"Really?"

"Well, you wanna see my reward system or not?"

Sokka chuckled, shaking his head and leaning closer to him again.

"I'm a good person?" he guessed, and Zuko smiled and lifted to press a kiss to his jawline, having to move the hoodie back to do it.

"One more," Zuko murmured into his skin, and Sokka shivered.

"Fine… My shit isn't dumb?" he attempted. "Because, you care about me and love me and all that other stuff?"

He felt Zuko chuckle against his jaw before moving to kiss, hot and perfect, against the side of his neck. He then sucked and licked down toward his collarbone, and Sokka groaned. 

"Damn, operant conditioning," he said, curling his hand around Zuko's shoulder. "Ok then… maybe I can be trained."

"Damn right you can," Zuko replied, moving to nip at his ear, "because I do love you and your shit  _ matters _ to me, Sokka, you dumbass."

Sokka finally turned his head to catch Zuko's mouth again, and the panic and worry and fear all seemed easier to deal with when he had someone kind and beautiful and willing to make out with him on a living room floor. Especially when that someone was Zuko.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad so many of you are enjoying this little story (and this wild, accidentally giant series I've created), and thanks as always for reading, kudos-ing, commenting, and everything else!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sokka does his best to help with an especially difficult Zuko Angst Day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another shoutout to mists_of_avalon for the inspiration for this story (and the Harry Potter reference idea). Thanks so much for being willing to talk story ideas and brainstorm with me!

Sokka didn't entirely understand why it was 10pm on a Tuesday and the "Zuko is texting" bubbles kept popping up and then disappearing. Sometimes for a long time, like he was writing out paragraphs of text that never came. Sometimes quick blips that appeared and were gone. He watched them for a while as he sat in bed browsing his phone with one hand and petting Boomerang with the other, unsure what it meant. 

It could be just a weird glitch, maybe something going on because he kept postponing doing updates on his phone. But his gut told him it was something else, something more than that.

He hadn't seen much of Zuko for a few days, mostly just because of work schedules and timing, but he'd at least still been texting some. Less, but not unreasonably so for a busy, overworked Zuko, but these appearing and disappearing bubbles coupled with so little communication had Sokka concerned. Maybe he was just paranoid. Maybe he'd go down there and Zuko would just be like "bitch, I am trying to sleep--update your damn phone." Maybe he'd just say "Aww, you’re sweet, let's do lunch tomorrow" and then they'd both go to sleep for the night and everything would be normal. 

But maybe not. Maybe Sokka's gut was right.

So he headed downstairs and knocked. If Zuko was there, he'd answer. They always did now. Who the hell else was knocking on the other's door at any time, night or day (although Sokka had once scared the hell out of a UPS guy by throwing open the door and yelling "get in here, gorgeous!" because he'd been assuming Zuko, but that was neither here nor there)? So he knocked, and he waited, and he tried not to worry.

It took a little while for Zuko to open the door, and he looked startled when he did. 

"Sokka?" he asked, glancing past him. "What are you doing here? Don't you have to work in the morning?"

There was something in his eyes that wasn't right, somehow, a glassiness, the way they found Sokka's face and then moved away from it and back again. A slow blink and something lost in his expression.

Those text bubbles had not been a glitch.

"I just," Sokka pulled out and held up his phone, "I kept seeing almost-texts coming through but then nothing came so I just wanted to… check on you."

Zuko's face did something strange.

"Are you ok?" Sokka asked, worried.

"I didn't realize you'd see those," Zuko muttered back, definitely not looking at him now. "I'm sorry. It's--" He forced a pained sort of smile and met Sokka's eyes again. "It's nothing. Nothing to worry about. I'll stop--I won't keep doing that. With the texts."

Sokka's eyebrows drew together.

"What's going on?" he asked, keeping his voice soft, starting to recognize the signs of a Zuko Angst Day.

They never had come up with a specific word, but Zuko had adopted Sokka's phrasing and used it occasionally. He'd used it when he'd gotten in a weird argument with his sister and it threw him off and brought out that angry side of him again. So he'd just texted Sokka "Angst Day. I'll be hiding and screaming at bad reality tv today. see you tomorrow" and Sokka had let it be. When he knocked with coffee the next day, Zuko had let him in, told him about the argument, drank his coffee far too quickly, and then crowded Sokka up against the door, sucking marks into his collarbones.

"So you're feeling better," Sokka had said, a little breathless.

"Yeah," Zuko replied, kissing up to his ear. "Thank you. For understanding me, letting me have my space to disappear and be an angry bastard for a while."

Sokka chuckled and slid his hands into Zuko's hair. 

"As long as you always come back to me, darling," Sokka replied.

"I'm not going anywhere," Zuko replied, moving up to kiss him again. "You're stuck with me now."

"Damn right I am," Sokka murmured, and kissed him again.

But the Angst Days still happened occasionally, sometimes just an afternoon, sometimes as long as a few days. At least he still always told Sokka, even if it was just texting "Angst Day" with no explanation. That one had made Sokka's skin itch a little because there was no time frame, no plan, but Sokka had respected it anyway. A day and a half later when Zuko had come to find him, he'd told Sokka that an older man had passed away during his shift, and it reminded him of his uncle and made everything too real. So they'd sat together, Sokka's arm around his shoulder, and listened to music and didn't talk about it more. Instead, Zuko had just burrowed his face into Sokka's chest and held on, and Sokka for his part had simply stroked his hands up and down Zuko's back and stayed quiet. 

He loved him. He'd do whatever he could as long as Zuko met him halfway, and the Angst Days were a way they’d found to give Zuko the space he needed without Sokka feeling like he was being rejected. It was a system that worked for them.

Until now, apparently, where something weird was going on. Sokka offered a small smile as he waited just outside the door, but Zuko's eyes fled again. Hesitantly, Sokka reached out to brush his fingertips over his forearm, which was all he could reach at the moment. 

"Can I come in?" he asked quietly, because Zuko hadn't used their term that meant ‘I need to be alone’ so maybe Sokka could help.

After a moment, Zuko nodded and pulled the door open all the way. 

The interior was dark and messier than Zuko's normal minimalist aesthetic, but not in the fun way Sokka might have hoped for. No, this was… something different. There were take-out boxes and energy drink cans left on the kitchen island, a pillow from his bed on the couch, plastic grocery bags on the floor and a few of the cabinets left standing open. There was no light from his bedroom, the whole place colder than the heat-loving Zuko would ever normally allow, and the air smelled a bit like a stove burner had been left on too long. And even Zuko himself looked different, distant and tired with a toothpaste stain on his shirt, bags under his eyes, and oily hair. Sokka knew he'd been working long shifts recently (or at least that was what Zuko had told him), but this wasn't the normal caffeine-crash, post-work, pet-my-hair-and-let-me-sleep-in-your-lap Zuko either. 

Sokka took a careful step forward, and Zuko didn't stop him.

"What's going on, buddy?" he asked, feeling a bit like he was approaching a pet that had gone a little feral.

Zuko looked at him with heavy eyes.

"I kept wanting to text you," he confessed softly, "but I kept deleting them. You weren't… supposed to see."

"What were you texting me about?" Sokka asked, and Zuko just gave a quick shake of his head. Sokka put up his hands. "That's totally fine. Zuko Angst Day?"

Zuko met his eyes again for just a moment and then nodded.

"Can I still stay with you right now?" Sokka asked.

Another hesitation, and then another nod. 

"You don't wanna be alone like a normal Angst Day?"

A more assertive head shake this time.

"Ok," Sokka said, reaching out to stroke Zuko's cheek, unable to resist. Zuko's eyes were soft, still lost, and Sokka gave him a gentle smile. "You don't have to tell me anything unless you want, but I'm gonna operate under the assumption that you're having a tough time for whatever reason," he added, "so I'm gonna help."

The apartment was too dark and too cold and too quiet, and Zuko was too many of those things as well.

"How?" Zuko asked in a small voice.

"Let's make a plan," Sokka said immediately, already going into that mode, because that was something he could do.

Zuko gave a small nod, watching Sokka's face.

"A Taking Care of Zuko Plan. Ok so…" Sokka looked at the kitchen and the takeout containers and empty cans of Redbull. "This is a very 'you' thing to say, but when was the last time you had some water and, like, ate a piece of fruit or something?" He smiled a little, going for, hoping for humor. "Basically, what percentage of your body right now is just caffeine and bad vibes?"

Zuko gave a vague sort of shrug, which was worrying, both because he hadn't been taking care of himself and hadn't reacted at all to Sokka's dumb humor. So Sokka set to work, not asking for permission. He trusted their relationship by now, that Zuko would tell him if he wanted him to stop or go away.

"Step one," Sokka said as he found a water glass and closed the open cabinets, "hydration and food. Then," he glanced back at Zuko, who watched him a bit blankly, "shower and clean clothes.” 

He stared at Zuko for a moment, still looking lost in his own apartment, looking tired and distant and shut down, and made a quick revision. 

“Ok, new Step One,” he said, looking around and grabbing the first cat he saw. He was about 80% sure it was Lucky sneaking through the kitchen, but regardless, Sokka grabbed and brought the ball of warm ginger fur and confused meows over to Zuko. “You hold this and give him super-supreme cuddles for a while,” he instructed and passed the cat over.

Zuko accepted the cat and then clutched Probably-Lucky to his chest, dipping his face down into his fur.

Sokka nodded. “Now Step  _ 1.5 _ is hydration and food.”

He returned to the kitchen, leaving Zuko with his armload of cat, which did seem to help. Zuko hoisted the cat a little higher and rubbed his face gently into the top of the cat’s head. Probably-Lucky purred loudly in response, which definitely ought to help at least a little bit, and Sokka focused on filling the water glass.

“Ok, step 1.5,” he said and headed back toward Zuko with the full glass of water. "Drink that," he instructed, and Zuko adjusted the cat to fit into one arm so he could accept the glass with the other, "and then I think one of our movie nights is long overdue. Just, full blanket fort and stupid comedy and Sokka getting his legs all up in your space. Ok? And don't," he added when Zuko's forehead furrowed, "say I have to work and it's late and blah blah responsible shit, because I know you were thinking it." He drew a circle in front of Zuko's still slightly concerned expression. "I can see it in your face, but I’m irresponsible and impulsive, remember? Let it happen."

Zuko gave him a thin smile.

"Ok," he agreed and drank the water. 

Sokka managed to track down some dried cranberries in the cupboard as well as an old granola bar shoved way in the back, which at least was something. It was probably good that they were together just for the fact they clearly took better care of each other than they did themselves. For all Zuko's usual "you'll get scurvy--eat a vegetable," Sokka knew for a  _ fact _ he existed half the time on cheap coffee and spite. And Sokka, for all that he was plying Zuko with water and halfway-decent food right now, had definitely eaten a gas station hotdog for breakfast on more than one occasion. But that was why they had each other.

It was also why Sokka was making sure Zuko finished the full glass of water and ate all the tracked down food before he moved on to his next step in the plan.

After he was done, they stood together for another moment while Zuko snuggled the cat and Sokka watched him and occasionally rubbed his arm. When the cat squirmed free and dropped to the floor, Zuko finally looked back at Sokka with that sort of disconnected expression.

“Step two,” Sokka announced and marched him to the bathroom and the shower. “Time for showering. I can go grab you some clean clothes and a fresh towel and stuff while you get clean because babe, I Iove you, but this is not the hot version of grunge Zuko right now, ok?"

Zuko nodded, the barest, flimsiest bit of a smile on his face, but Sokka would take it. He left him there, grabbed clothes, and returned only to find Zuko staring at the shower like some daunting feat Sokka had set before him. Sokka reached out and squeezed his shoulder.

"Sorry," Zuko said softly, and Sokka just shook his head. This was a whole new brand of Zuko Angst Day for sure, but Sokka was in it now. He was gonna help. He was gonna be there. That was what he did, who he was.

"Want me to come in with you?" he asked with a bit of a smile. 

Zuko looked over at him, something breaking through his expression. "You'd do that?" he asked.

"Any chance to see you naked, gorgeous," Sokka agreed and started the shower, turning it up to that almost scalding level he knew Zuko liked. And Zuko’s smile was thin but there again regardless, which Sokka took as a win.

They climbed in together a little later, and Sokka avoided being boiled alive by getting Zuko under the spray. That did seem to bring him to life a bit more, the hot water cascading through his hair and down his shoulders and over his chest. He was more himself in it too, the water pooling and spilling from his collarbones, down the lines of his chest, across his face and dripping from his eyelashes. Sokka reached out, unable to resist, and brushed back a strand of Zuko’s hair. Zuko met his eyes, and there was something more vivid to them again, something clearer.

"See? That's better, huh?" Sokka said, passing over body wash.

"Yeah. Little bit," Zuko replied, reaching out just once to run his knuckles down the side of Sokka's arm, the gesture so small and far away it about broke Sokka's heart.

He took the time then to actually scrub the shampoo into Zuko's hair, partially out of helpfulness and partially out of the selfish enjoyment he got from the soothed faces and groans Zuko made when he rubbed his scalp just right. And Zuko did make a few of those faces and groans, and something did relax a little through his neck and shoulders. Sokka rubbed through his hair and stroked it away from his face and took that moment to press a kiss between his brow bones. Zuko managed a small smile at that too and then let himself be maneuvered back under the water again to rinse.

They left the shower on as they stepped out for a little while to keep the room warmer than the rest of the apartment, and Sokka ducked out to find extra towels. Once Zuko was dry and dressed, even just in a fresh t-shirt and clean sweatpants, he did look more like himself again. He rubbed a towel through his damp hair while Sokka supervised and smoothed down the front of his own borrowed shirt. Then Zuko turned and looked at himself in the mirror. 

It was all fogged over from the still-running shower, but Zuko raised a hand and wiped it in a downward stroke, revealing just the right side of his face. It was still blurred a bit with condensation, pale skin, pink at the cheeks from the heat, the arch of a dark eyebrow and the angle of a brown-gold eye. His expression had closed off again as he stared at himself in the mirror.

"It was… thirteen years ago today,” he said quietly as he raised a hand to swipe the fog away from the left side of his reflected face as well, "I got my scar."

Sokka’s stomach tightened, watching Zuko’s face, half-obscured, in the mirror, but he took a step forward to wrap an arm around Zuko's side, not saying anything yet. He studied the pair of them, unclear and smeared in the mirror, chest heavy.

The discoloration and ragged lines of the scar were even more warped in the reflection, Zuko's damaged eye even narrower, pulled tighter into a glare. Zuko continued to stare at his reflection, and Sokka pressed closer, understanding just a little more about the apartment, about the different Angst Day. Zuko didn't look away from his own face.

"Half my life," Zuko said, blinking slowly. "It's been half my life now I've carried this around." He ran a finger across the shape of it in the mirror. "Don't know why I still remember the exact date so well, but I guess waking up one day and seeing someone else in the mirror will do that to you."

Sokka watched the reflection of his expression, twisted up with anger and pain.

"I'm so sorry that happened to you, that you’re dealing with it today," he whispered finally. "I didn't know."

"How could you?" Zuko said, still focused on his own reflection. "I kept… trying to tell you, explain somehow, that this is the anniversary and every year it throws me and I don't know what to do with myself." He smeared a hand across the re-fogging reflection of his face, making it more muddled instead of clearer. "But I just kept deleting the text because I couldn't ask you to just sit and be sad and weird and shitty with me when that's all I can do right now."

"I don't mind just sitting and being sad with you," Sokka replied, rubbing his side, and finally Zuko looked aside at him.

"I see that now," he said, "because even without me being able to explain it… you came anyway."

Sokka nodded and stayed beside him, just following the movements of their hazy, joined reflections in the mirror. Zuko was looking back at himself again, and Sokka watched him.

"Thirteen fucking years," Zuko muttered, wiping it clear again, "of having a physical reminder that my dad  _ chose _ to hurt me, to do this." He moved like he'd touch the scar on his face but stopped, pulled away, and Sokka's heart broke a little bit more. "And it still hurts sometimes--physically hurts, like it's pulling on the rest of my face and I…" He frowned harder, voice rough. "Why today? Why when I can't deal with it, can't touch it? I just--I don't--"

"What do you normally do?" Sokka asked quietly. "When it hurts like this?"

Zuko gestured vaguely at a drawer next to the sink. "Shea lotion, to soften the tissue and the skin, but Sokka, today--I can't do it--"

"You don't have to do a damn thing," Sokka said, pulling open the drawer, "but can I?"

Zuko's expression twitched. "You don't wanna touch my fucked up face--"

"Yes I do," Sokka said immediately, cutting him off as he located the little tub of lotion and set it on the counter, "because it's  _ your _ face, Zuko. It's  _ you. _ "

Zuko rotated to stare at him, eyes a little bright. 

"I won't do anything you don't want," Sokka said, keeping his voice gentle, "but I… I love your face, ok?"

Zuko swallowed, jawline tight.

"I know the scar is awful and that  _ never _ should have happened to you. Never, Zuko," Sokka continued, "but… but this is still the face I know, ok? The face that means 'Zuko' to me, the person I love so much it’s absolutely stupid sometimes. That’s  _ his  _ face, so…" He wet his lips. "Will you let me take care of it?"

Zuko watched him for a moment, something fragile and longing in his expression, and finally nodded. Sokka nodded back and then unscrewed the lid of the lotion.

"What do I do?" he asked softly.

Zuko's jaw tensed before he spoke. "Just rub it on the scar, especially around the edge where it meets the skin. If… you don't mind."

"I don't," Sokka said again and dipped his fingers into the shea and brought them up to Zuko's face.

He held very still and shut his eyes, and ever so gently, Sokka smoothed along the lower edge of the scar, working it through the roughly healed tissue, down to the softer skin beside it. He worked carefully to cover it all, from where it started just beside his nose and swept along his face, carefully over the cheekbone and under his eye, delicately across the eyelid, up to the brow bone. He kept flicking his eyes to Zuko's just in case, but they stayed shut. Trusting him. Sokka smoothed his finger gently over Zuko's skin, and Zuko didn't move as he worked. He remained stiff and tense, though, so Sokka kept his movements slow, his fingers gentle. The scar truly did speak of pain, splashed across Zuko's otherwise regular features, and it was harsh and rough and uneven. But it was also Zuko, just a part of his features now, a part of his expressions and his lingering gazes and the places Sokka was allowed to touch. Just a part of the larger whole that Sokka had fallen in love with.

So it couldn't be ugly. Not really. Not to him. 

He finished a last stroke with the pad of his thumb. 

"Is that ok?" he asked. "Is it… any better or should I do more?"

It took a moment for Zuko's eyes to open again. When they did, he looked at Sokka like everything else in the room had disappeared. 

"It… does feel better," he said quietly. "Thank you."

"Of course," Sokka said, putting the lid back on the tub and dropping it back in the drawer. "What else can I do?"

Zuko blinked quickly a few times and swallowed again. "I… don't know."

"That's ok," Sokka said, rubbing a hand over his arm. "You're totally fine." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "But I am gonna shut off the shower now."

Zuko nodded while Sokka turned away to stop the water, and when he turned back, Zuko was looking at himself in the mirror again, the condensation swiped away, and actually stroked a fingertip over his scar. Sokka returned to his spot at his side.

"I still don't know what to do whenever this day comes around," Zuko admitted quietly, "because the wrongness creeps up on me, just feeling shitty and edgy and disconnected for days leading up to it but I can't explain why to anyone and don't know how to fix it."

Sokka didn't know either, and it was awful. Really, there probably wasn't anything he  _ could _ do about it, anything he could offer that undid that pain. It was there, just like the scar, regardless. Still he rotated to wrap his other arm around him too, hold him tight. He could be here. That had to be worth something.

"Well," he asked after a moment, "if you could do anything you wanted today, anything at all, what would it be?"

Zuko sighed. "Hide in my bed?" he muttered. "Bury myself in a hole and plant myself until spring?"

Sokka squeezed him tight again. "Ok, I don't think the second one is physically possible, and I'm not burying you in a hole regardless."

Zuko turned his eyes to Sokka's in the mirror, clear and bright. 

"The first one we could do if that's really what you want though," Sokka continued, hoping it was ok to continue inviting himself along to this awful anniversary. “I’d hide in bed with you if that would make you feel better.”

"Who knows," Zuko replied. "Hiding at least seems reasonable."

"Screw reasonable," Sokka replied, turning so they were side by side in the fogged mirror again and trying to smile. "I said do  _ anything _ , not be logical about it. So come on. Weirdest, most bat-shit bizarre thing you could do today if it was magically possible."

Zuko gave a slim edge of a smile, his eyes still tracking Sokka's face in the mirror instead of his own. 

"Did you ever watch  _ Harry Potter _ as a kid?" he asked, which was a non sequitur even for Sokka's chaotic brain, but at least it was a slightly more pleasant turn in the conversation.

"I mean, I read the books like every kid our age," Sokka replied. "Why?"

Zuko chewed at his lip for a moment. "You remember the shiny ghost-looking animals that would protect you from dementors?" he asked, eyes far away as he stared at the mirror and his own face again. "Because if I could really do  _ anything _ right now, I'd have one of those. Just a huge silver magic thing to keep back the darkness, you know? Maybe that would help.”

Sokka smiled a little. "A patronus," he said. "Sure. So what would yours look like?"

Zuko gave a somewhat sad smile, leaning into Sokka now. "Definitely a dragon, just like I wanted as a kid. Giant silver dragon that I could make appear whenever I needed it, whenever the bad stuff needed to be chased away." He shook his head. "Sorry. This is really fucking weird and stupid."

"No it's not," Sokka said, leaning to kiss his cheek. "Not at all." 

He considered for just a moment and then reached up and pressed the tip of his finger to the condensation on the mirror, starting to draw. 

He couldn't claim to be this kind of artist, but he went for it anyway, trying to remember what one looked like. He started with the arch of a curving back, a long neck and a head with horns and whiskers, a sweeping tail, fanned out wings, all carefully sketched into the fog so that it curved up and around Zuko's reflection, hemmed him in on both sides and above him. Sokka added the little details in case it wasn't clear: scales and eyes and claws, bones in the wings and a bit of fire at the mouth. Zuko watched him the whole time, something brittle in his expression, and Sokka kept going. The fog was fading a little, so he breathed on the mirror at a few places to keep the image visible and added the finishing touches. Then he stepped back to view his handiwork, the patronus dragon curled protectively around the person he loved, who took it all in with somewhat damp eyes. 

"Not the best drawing I've ever done," Sokka said with a critical squint of his eyes, "and I'm sorry it's not  _ actually  _ magical but--"

"It is," Zuko said softly, voice thick.

Then he turned and pressed himself into Sokka's chest, arms tight around his neck and face buried in his shoulder. And Sokka held him, looking once at the pair of them encircled by the fading patronus dragon.

"Sokka, I…" Zuko murmured into his neck, "I can't… you're so… I just…”

"I love you too," Sokka replied, kissing the side of his head. "So much, Zuko. Not as much as you deserve, not enough to make up for all of it, but with everything I can."

Zuko squeezed into him a bit tighter, nuzzling his face into the side of his neck. 

"I know… I know you have to go into work in the morning, so you probably can't…" Zuko said, "but if maybe for a little bit--if you don't mind--"

"I can stay here tonight," Sokka said immediately. "I've gone to work half-dead hungover before--I can definitely go in a little tired."

Zuko made a noise like a laugh into his shirt and nestled further into his shoulder. 

"I can probably even find a bootleg version of a  _ Harry Potter  _ movie online if you want," Sokka offered. "Suki was a genius at pirating--swear to god, I haven't paid for a movie in like ten years. Don't tell the FDA."

Zuko maybe-laughed again and drew back a little. "The Food and Drug Association?" he asked with a crooked sort of grin.

Sokka's eyes narrowed. "Right, not that one. Which one is it? The FBI? The CDC?" He waved a hand. "Something with three letters. Doesn't matter. What do you think?"

Zuko smiled at him and pulled him close to kiss him, letting it linger between them for a long moment as the bathroom started to cool. 

"That…" he said after, "that sounds really nice, actually." 

"Then let's do it," Sokka replied, and squeezed him close once more, looking at the pair of them in the still fogged mirror surrounded by the dragon, their edges blurring together.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little more of Sokka's planning on the morning after the Angst Day.

Sokka did have to work in the morning, and it came around far too quickly. After an evening curled up together and being soft and childish and then some actual sleep, Sokka really hated to leave the finally relaxed Zuko alone. Sokka's alarm had gone off and he’d caught it quickly, but Zuko hadn't even stirred. Which meant he definitely hadn't been sleeping nearly enough before this. But he was now, bundled in blankets and with his damp hair dried against the pillow, his lips parted just a little as he slept on. Sokka untangled himself as carefully as he could without waking him--shifting Zuko’s leg from off his, adjusting so Zuko’s forehead was no longer pressed into his shoulder. Once he was free, Sokka tucked the blankets back in around Zuko again as gently as he could. More people should be treating this man gently--should have treated him gently his whole damn life. That was clear even as he slept, still a bit curled into himself, the visible hand by the pillow in a fist, and a few tense lines still around his eyes.

Damn it, Sokka didn't want to go. 

But he also had to be an adult about this. As much as it sucked, he had to go to work like a grown up so he could keep paying for his apartment and Boomerang's chewbone addiction and his impulsive food buying and, you know, continue having health insurance. 

God, capitalism could eat a dick.

He bent down and gently brushed the hair back from Zuko's face to kiss his temple. The other man's eyes fluttered open at the touch, just barely, and he made a noise into the pillow. 

"Hey there, snuggle-bug," Sokka muttered, grinning at him, "I gotta go to work."

Zuko's eyes opened a little more, and he rolled to look up at Sokka, squinting at the light.

"Wha' time is it?" he asked.

"Time for you," Sokka said, pulling the blankets back up around him, "to go back to sleep."

Zuko frowned at him. "I should--"

"Do absolutely fucking nothing," Sokka said immediately, "because I know for a fact you don't work today and that you need rest."

Zuko furrowed at him then in his Zuko-ish way, and Sokka rubbed through his hair, sweeping it back from off his forehead. But Zuko’s face went distant and closed a little again, even still curled up in bed.

"I have--I have to do  _ something _ , Sokka," he said softly. "If I don't, I'll just… it'll all just..." And he trailed off, face falling further. 

"Ok," Sokka said, stroking Zuko's cheek and sitting back down as his brain quickly ran for a solution. "Ok, love, I get it. So, um…" He chewed the inside of his cheek. "Ok, I have a plan for you today then," he said, and Zuko raised an eyebrow at him. "First, you're gonna sleep in as long as you can.”

“That’s not a plan,” Zuko grumbled morosely, and Sokka poked the tip of his nose.

“Does ‘first’ sound like the end of my amazing plan?” he said, smiling. “Absolutely not. So second, whenever you do get up, you're gonna make or pick up some actual breakfast. And  _ no _ , Zuko, you nocturnal gremlin,  _ coffee-- _ " he added as Zuko started to protest, "is not breakfast."

"Neither is a gas station hotdog," Zuko muttered, propping himself up on an elbow, "but I've let you do that."

"This is so not about me right now," Sokka said, with a jab at Zuko's face. "Coffee  _ goes _ with breakfast, so there better be eggs, bacon, pancakes, sausages, I don’t know. But actual breakfast.  _ Then  _ coffee, got it?” 

Zuko scowled at him without any real heat behind it and then relented. “Fine. I got it.”

“Then--was I on third? whatever--Next," Sokka continued, "you’re gonna do some yoga like you do. All that nice breathing and stretching and accidentally wrestling with your cats.”

One of said cats was sneaking up onto the bed now, clearly trying to be subtle about slinking by Zuko’s feet. Sokka glanced back at him and reached out and patted the cat’s back.

“Yes you, little snooper,” Sokka said to whichever cat this was. Black collar, so Dragon, and he scratched the cat under the chin. “You take care of our shared human, you hear me?”

The cat, of course, didn’t respond, but Zuko gave a low chuckle, which meant things were starting to return to normal. God, it was unsettling when Zuko didn’t acknowledge Sokka being a dumbass for the sake of humor.

“Ok, more plan,” Sokka continued, looking back at the man still under the blankets. “After you’ve done that other stuff, the next step is that you're gonna find something stupid and fun to watch and you're gonna binge it like a happy, little couch potato. I'm talking, all the pillows and extra blankets and  _ both _ cats. Watch  _ The Office  _ again, or  _ Parks and Rec,  _ or finally check out  _ Community _ , whatever you want." He poked toward Zuko's face again. "But you're gonna sit there and be comfortable and kind to yourself."

Zuko was smiling a little more now. 

"Ok. Anything else, Dr. Sokka?" he asked.

"Um, yes," Sokka said, but he'd really been making this up on the fly, so he wasn't sure. Still, making shit up was something he could do. "Ok, last thing, you're gonna talk to someone--your uncle, your friends, your coworkers, or even just me if that's all you can do." 

Zuko's face closed off some, but Sokka hurried on and reached out to brush through his hair again. 

"It doesn't have to be a lot,” he said, tipping up Zuko’s face to look at him again, and Zuko’s eyes found his, soft and careful. “Text someone, talk about what you're watching, find some really great memes to share, Snapchat the cats, whatever. But, most importantly," he added, a little softer, "you're gonna text me if it gets dark again, ok? I don't care if you just need to send me a sad-face emoji and that’s it, but you… gotta tell me. And I'll," Sokka watched him another moment, chest tight, "I'll come home, ok?"

"You can't leave work,” Zuko protested immediately, “not just because I'm…" He shook his head.

"You're not the boss of me," Sokka said with a cheeky sort of smile, "so if I wanna come home to see my hot-ass boyfriend, I'm gonna."

Zuko raised his eyes again to meet Sokka's.

"You can't do that," Zuko said, although more weakly this time, "risk your job because of me."

Sokka snorted. "You think they'd get rid of me for something like this? That whole place would go to shit without me." When Zuko furrowed at him again, Sokka went on. "Look, I'll be reasonable about it, tell them you're violently ill, one foot in the grave, and if I don't leave to rescue you, your death will be on their hands."

Zuko shook his head, smiling a little bit. "That's your version of reasonable?"

"Absolutely," Sokka replied. "So you'll text me?"

Zuko's expression was hesitant and maybe a little sad. "I'll… text you."

"Promise?" Sokka said, and on instinct, extended his pinky finger toward him. "Pinky promise?"

"What?" Zuko asked, eyebrow raised again.

"It's like the ten-year-old version of a legally binding contract, and that's where we're at today, apparently," Sokka said, jiggling his hand at him. "So promise me."

Zuko grinned just a little and hooked their pinkies together. "I promise I'll tell you if it gets bad again."

"Ok good," Sokka said, finally standing up, "and then tonight I'll bring home takeout from that Indian place and we'll hang out more. Maybe I’ll let you win at Mario Kart--”

“ _ Let  _ me win.” 

“--or maybe we’ll try the Untitled Goose Game where we can just be asshole geese together. That actually sounds pretty cathartic,” Sokka said, and Zuko was still watching him, looking a bit more like himself.  “Basically, I'm a stubborn son of a bitch," Sokka finished fondly, "and I'm getting you through this, babe. I'm gonna make sure you're ok because you deserve it."

Zuko's expression had gone a bit fragile again.

"You're too good for me," he murmured.

"You're damn right I am," Sokka said with a wide smile. "So aren't you lucky you’ve got me?"

Then he bent to kiss him, lingering and soft, and even after they separated, Zuko caught his face a moment so he could rest their heads together, just breathing. 

"And don't forget about your patronus," Sokka murmured. "Still on the mirror, if you need it. If you need a little bit of me with you." He smiled. "Just run the shower again and it'll appear."

"Like magic," Zuko replied with a crooked bit of a smile.

"Like magic," Sokka repeated, moving back to kiss his forehead.

Zuko sighed into it, hand still wrapped around the back of Sokka's neck.

"We'll talk more soon," he said, maybe to himself, as he let Sokka go at last. 

"Yeah we will," Sokka replied as he stood up and headed for the bedroom door. "You made an unbreakable hand gesture promise."

"I did," Zuko said and tucked himself back into the blankets. Some of that tension had faded from around his eyes, from out of his hands, and finally Sokka felt ok to head upstairs and off to work and know that he'd keep his promises too.

And he came home that evening to  _ his _ Zuko again, less haunted, more relaxed, ready to yell about video games and add extra spice to his already spicy food and press his leg against Sokka’s on the couch. His Zuko, who caught him right at the door in a tight hug as soon as he entered and pressed his face into the side of Sokka's neck. And Sokka, as he held him in his arms again, was reminded that, whatever happened, they were in this together now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks all for reading this story! I'm so glad so many of you enjoyed this one!
> 
> Update on posting:
> 
> First, this series is NOT finished. It may never be finished, because these are my boys now and I love them and want to just keeping writing about them being disasters and loving each other. So I have one story in this series already written and in the editing/revising/constantly poking at it stage, and another story I'm currently muddling through.
> 
> I will also still be updating "Syllables of Debris" steadily even while continuing to add to the Midwest Bi Disaster Zukka series we have here. I'm not sure what that posting schedule looks like, and I may jump back and forth between updating "Syllables" and updating here every couple days. If you ever have questions about my works or my assumed schedule, always feel free to hop over and chat with me on tumblr as onmyliteraturebullshitagain or on Discord as Jnaynay. Idk what I'm doing either, but I'm happy to talk to you about it.
> 
> Finally, I am having a LOVELY time writing fanfic and Zukka and would like to continue even though I'm still a bit new to this whole thing, so if you have story ideas (related to Midwest Zukka or entirely separate) that you'd like to see or think would be fun in my particular style, please don't hesitate to let me know! I can't promise anything, but I can say that I'm always open to talking about writing and brainstorming stories!
> 
> Thanks again, all! You're the best :)


End file.
